


And I Never Lost a Minute of Sleepin'

by floosilver8



Series: Schitt Sex [4]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Anal Sex, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, First Time, M/M, Makeup Sex, Missing Scene, Rutting, Wake-Up Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-24
Updated: 2020-07-24
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:27:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,731
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25437679
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/floosilver8/pseuds/floosilver8
Summary: Patrick fell in love with David immediately. It was a shock, but it also wasn’t.The continuing sexploits of Schitt's Creek. You don't *really* need to read the others in the series to follow this one, but you might want to read #3 to get the first part here.(Title from Tina Turner's "Proud Mary")
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Schitt Sex [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1806271
Comments: 11
Kudos: 156





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Chapter 1 is a recap and expansion of the missing scene from S4E2. I love a Patrick POV for his first time so I had to include it.
> 
> July 2nd is canonically David’s birthday according to the ATM Machine/PIN Number episode, so I’ve kept that as the timeline even though the weather is perpetually spring in Schitt’s Creek.

Patrick was still awake at 2am, buzzing with the combination of ecstatic adrenaline and just enough of Stevie’s whiskey. David had fallen asleep stretched out against his side, an arm draped lazily over Patrick’s stomach, fingertips just tucked under the waistband of his Tom Ford boxer briefs. He can’t stop smiling to himself, and he can’t stop thinking about how far he’d come in just a few weeks.

Their first meeting in Ray’s living room…flirting in the store over the body milk…their first hug…their first _kiss_ …the morning _after_ their kiss…that _afternoon_ in the _back room_ – and Patrick losing his _freaking mind_ over almost seeing _David’s cock!_

As soon as David sent the first URL that night he had to “take care of himself” to relieve some _tension_. All it took was picturing David flipping through catalogues (even though it’s the 21st century) looking at the examples of cuts and colors and fabric choices. The Tom Ford’s weren’t a link David sent, they were a recommended similar item or something, and as soon as Patrick saw them he thought, “David would pick those out for himself.” And the fact that he knew that so clearly brought Patrick up short for a second, and he knew immediately that they were not “him” not Patrick’s normal aesthetic or fit. And then he thought, “I should buy them!” And “David will want to wear them.” And then he thought of David stealing them and wearing them himself and _oooooohh, man_. Yeah. _Yes_. He was adding them to cart and pressing “Check Out” and entering his billing and shipping details. They were the single most expensive article of clothing he had ever purchased outside of the “good” winter coat he’d had for nearly 10 years. But it was going to be _worth it_.

And then of course, David’s reaction _was_ 100% worth it. Even if after tonight Patrick never got to wear them again because David was always stealing them, it was worth it. After their first…um, _time_ …that night, Patrick lounged on Stevie’s bed and David had peppered him with questions and when he was done, he wasn’t really done. They continued chatting and flirting and David kept touching the fabric hugging Patrick’s thighs. Kept running an errant finger over the hem at the leg. Kept glancing at the gold letters approximately 2 inches below Patrick’s navel and one inch above Patrick’s cock. And then David licked his lips in the middle of a sentence, eyes on Patrick’s groin and Patrick’s cock had twitched. _Actually twitched_. Even though it had only been, what? 10 minutes? since they had…since Patrick had… _fuck_. Since he had had David’s cock in his mouth, and come down his throat. Then David’s hands were on him again. Spreading his thighs and pulling the waistband down, tucking it right under Patrick’s balls so David could suck him off and nuzzle against the cotton at the same time. _Fuck_. That was so hot. He felt like a teenager, able to bounce back so quickly. Never in his life had sex…or…fooling around? been so hot.

Patrick’s cock swelled a bit again just thinking about it. He was liable to do… _something_ if he didn’t think of something else quick. And then suddenly Patrick remembered why they had to take Stevie up on the use of her apartment for the night.

The first time David had come over to Patrick’s little room at Ray’s, he obviously didn’t spend the night. Patrick had fully warned David of the living situation and they had agreed that just a homecooked dinner and a movie on the couch would be a nice low-pressure second date night. Ray was a gracious landlord/roommate and left them mostly alone. But in the middle of _First Wives Club_ , when Patrick couldn’t hold back with David running his hand up and down Patrick’s thigh anymore, he had practically _pounced_ on him right there on the couch with Bette Midler, Goldie Hawn and Diane Keaton’s terrible singing (just Diane was terrible) becoming background noise.

Ray had unfortunately chosen that minute to come down for a bite to eat and killed the mood. Patrick drove David back to the motel a short while later and they made-out in the car a bit, ribs digging into the center console trying to get as close as they possibly could before David retired inside.

The second time David had come over to Patrick’s little room at Ray’s, he finally made it to Patrick’s bedroom. By design, they had successfully avoided seeing Ray at all because he was out for poker night. David hadn’t pressed the option to go upstairs, Patrick could tell he was waiting for the invitation. And when they got to the room David didn’t press Patrick to do anything except show him around. David only smiled coyly and sauntered slowly, gently touching and examining different things – some obviously belonging to Patrick like his baseball glove, the watch he never wears, and a picture of his family. Other things that obviously did not – every single figurine. David had rested his hands on the doorknob for the closet and glanced over his shoulder at Patrick to silently ask permission. What else could Patrick have done but acquiesce? He had realized in that moment that he’d let David get away with just about anything if he kept smiling at him like that. That feeling didn’t diminish even as David proceeded to go through Patrick’s clothes and (gently) critique everything he owns. If he started actually wearing some of the things David liked (white button up) it wasn’t an accident. Ray came home during that critique and unfortunately insisted on chatting their ears off until David had made excuses to go home.

They hadn’t gotten to do much more than make out in Patrick’s car after that…and a bit at the store only after close and only over their clothes (as Patrick had suggested to preserve his dignity and David had agreed.)

But _that morning_ …that morning, Patrick had lost a little bit of control again. After the customer had left and David was still sitting with his face tilted up, so open and practically begging to be kissed and…ravished. He had pulled David behind the curtain to have his way with him. David’s mouth was on his neck immediately and his hands were under David’s sweater, finally feeling the warm expanse of his firm torso… _ahhhh_ …David’s mouth was indeed _sloppy_. Sloppy and very talented. …And then they heard the door open and Stevie’s “Ding ding!”

In Patrick’s mind there was no question at all about making use of her place. He was ready. Well, he was ready for something beyond making out in his car or the backroom, but he was also _Nervous As Fuck_ too. The only thing that steadied him all afternoon was the knowledge and anticipation of finally showing David _the_ underwear he had bought. It was exciting and scary and possibly heart attack inducing. And David’s face. _His face_ when he saw them. Such a precious mix of alarm and adoration and arousal. Patrick finally felt on an even keel, mustering up the courage he needed…to…to… _God_! He still wasn’t fully off the high of what they’d done. David was still asleep beside him! It was hardly anything yet! But it was… _wow_ …and man, he felt so _inadequate_ and yet so _alive_ and so _ready_ for the challenge of what came next.

It ends up being yet another moment when Patrick has a very difficult time not blurting out, “I love you!” From David’s care in making sure Patrick was ready for every move in bed, to the way he got so flustered over explaining Jake away. David had been hyper-focused on making sure Patrick had a good time and it, God it warmed his heart tremendously.

Apparently well shagged, David had fallen asleep around 1am. Patrick had wanted to reciprocate after David had gone down on him a second time, but David had skirted away and made excuses for needing more rest – which Patrick _totally_ understood. So, they drank more whiskey, and chatted, and Patrick got lost in David’s dark brown eyes and soft smile. And they cuddled in bed and then they were…doing more than that. All lips and teeth and grabbing hands. And to Patrick’s utter astonishment he was hard again, and David had done a slightly complicated thing where he jerked them both off at the same time? He didn’t know what that move was called, but he liked it because he could kiss David deeply while he came. It was definitely messier, but also that made it hot? Somehow? So, they cleaned up – which wasn’t as awkward as he expected it to be since, well, David was a man _too_ and _understood_. And while Patrick had slipped the designer underwear on again, David just didn’t. He had stayed fully nude and finally turned out the lights while they settled down under the covers.

And now, an hour later, Patrick is still awake. Still alive with the change, and the comfort, and the excitement all mixing up together inside him. He takes a deep breath unconsciously and it makes David stir. He remains laying on his stomach but removes his hand from Patrick’s belly stretching it out and resting his head on it, facing the other way. The top sheet shifts and Patrick gets to glimpse the dip of David’s lower back. God he was hot. Everything about him drove Patrick to distraction.

Without thinking about it, Patrick shifts down to lay on his side next to David. He ghosts his hand over the bare skin he could see, grazing the sheet with his pinky finger and “accidentally” pushing it further down David’s ass.

“You are insatiable,” David’s rough voice is muffled by the bedding.

The grin springs to Patrick’s face instantly. “Yeah, pretty much,” he replies with no pretense. Now that he has confirmation that David was awake, he lets his hand more firmly rest and stroke David’s lower back, brushing over the crest of his round ass cheeks.

David’s breathy giggle only spurs him on. He fully pushes the sheet away to admire David from this new angle. There is just enough light in the apartment to appreciate his smooth skin, two or three shades darker than Patrick’s own, and the black, sparse hairs throughout accentuating his masculinity. Not that David was hairy. No, Patrick would not describe him like that. David was _a man_. A _Man_. And that boggled Patrick’s mind a bit in the best way.

“Mmmm,” David hums deeply as Patrick’s hand unconsciously grips a handful of ass cheek.

Patrick can feel the muscles tense under his palm and fingers, and David arching back into it when he doesn’t immediately let go. God, that was nice. David’s little mewls and noisy breaths were everything. And his warm, bare skin, just there for Patrick to look, and touch…and taste. Patrick scoots down further kissing and licking at the taught skin over David’s ribs, lower back, and finally, _finally_ the swell of his ass. God, he had a great ass.

“Hmmmm,” David hums again and laughs into the mattress. “Now you have my attention. What do you have in mind?”

And the little remark makes Patrick falter, because he really doesn’t know what he’s doing, or what he even wanted to do. But he knows that his cock is at full mast, pressing against the side of David’s thigh, and the little friction that provides is driving him wild. “I um,” he doesn’t stop softly humping David’s leg while he tries to focus on forming words. “I don’t…”

“Shh, it’s okay,” David whispers reassuringly, “you can use my ass.”

That makes Patrick freeze, because he’s not ready for _that_. Not _yet_. He is definitely _interested_ he just needs to know more about the mechanics of it first. “Ummm…yellow?”

“Oh! No,” David seems to realize at once why Patrick introduces the traffic light system again. He props himself on his elbows to better look Patrick in the eyes. “Sweetie no, no. I didn’t mean…It’s okay. I just meant…you can…rub yourself off against my ass if you wanted. Just like you were doing, but more…in the middle?”

“Oh!” the anxiety? or nerves? or whatever it was pooling in his chest evaporates and he relaxes into the mattress again. “Okay.”

“Take these off first though,” David reaches a hand over to gently snap the waistband of Patrick's underwear. “I don’t want you getting any come on those gorgeous things tonight.”

Patrick fully laughs as he shifts and removes the designer underwear completely. He tosses them inelegantly off to the side and settles back down next to David who shifts closer to the center of the bed.

“C’mere,” he tilts David’s chin up to kiss him almost sweetly before slowly rolling and shifting his weight to lay on top of his back. His arms and legs bracket David’s body, helping to keep Patrick from putting too much weight on him.

“Mm,” David hums and arches back to press his ass into Patrick’s groin, “let me feel you properly.”

Patrick lets himself go a little, peppering light kisses to David’s shoulder blades and the nape of his neck. He doesn’t even mean to, but his dick has a mind of its own and it starts stroking slowly at the groove between David’s cheeks.

“That’s it,” he encourages. “Here,” David reaches to the night table and hands Patrick the little bottle of lube he had left there after his little complicated simultaneous hand job thing. “Slick yourself up a little. It’ll feel even better.”

Patrick does as he’s told, applying the slick liquid to his eager cock, then resuming his rhythm. “Are you…Is this, um, going to get you off too?” his breath getting heavier from the lust and exertion. He’s not sure what answer he hopes for. He definitely _wants_ David to feel good, as good as he feels doing this, but he’s also very conscious of wanting to do other stuff to David, or with David, too.

“Mmm, probably not,” David answers, his forehead pressing into the mattress to allow his ass to sit a little higher. “But…mmmmm…it’ll definitely get me close.”

“Oh, okay,” Patrick replies, “good. Because I want to suck you off again.”

David chuckles and looks back over his shoulder, “Yes, please! Green light!”

Maybe it’s David’s keen responses, maybe it’s just the anticipation of more than this, but Patrick is really, really responding to fucking himself against David’s crack. He gets the courage to spread David a little further open and nearly loses his load when David groans and presses back, seeking more pressure. He braces himself more on his knees, allowing for better leverage. And he’s getting closer and closer, and David is moaning encouragingly.

“Yes, baby,” David whispers.

So, Patrick keeps going, keeps letting the pressure build and build in his gut, intensifying the tingle up his spine. Keeps seeking out the cradling warmth and slick of David’s ass.

“That’s it, baby, take what you need. Fuck me.”

And the filthy invitation mixed with the intimate pet name sends Patrick careening off the edge. His orgasm brings stars to his eyes and he’s coming all over David’s back. It’s sinful and delightful, and he feels like he has marked him, possessed him for just this moment.

“Yes!” David praises enthusiastically, twisting his neck around to see him. “Oh, baby that was so hot! That was so good.”

“Yeah?” Patrick asks shyly, breathing ragged and rough.

“Fuck yes. I’m so proud of you!”

“Proud?!” Patrick can only laugh timidly and roll reluctantly to his back, finally releasing David. And because he’s a _man_ he gets up and grabs his undershirt to wipe himself off and clean his come off David’s back as well. He had never done that with any of his past partners. He had never been with anyone enthusiastic, and encouraging, and open in the way that David was.

When he was satisfied with his clean-up job, he tosses the shirt aside and guides David to roll onto his back revealing quite the impressive erection. Patrick settles himself between David’s legs and they both smile coyly in the darkness as Patrick strokes David’s thighs slowly. He’s just drinking him in, trying to memorize every curve and plane of his body.

David squirms a little after a moment and reaches out to cover Patrick’s hands with his own. “Remember you don’t have to do anything, you know?”

“Oh, no, I know,” Patrick lets his hands slip around to the backs of David’s knees hitching them a little higher, spreading them a little wider. “I really want to practice, though.” He dips his head and he’s halfway to David’s cock, mouth open and hungry for it.

“Practice?!” David practically squeals.

“Well, yeah,” Patrick settles himself between David’s legs, mouth centimetres from his balls. “If you haven’t figured it out by now David, I am very competitive, and I refuse to be bad in bed.”

David starts to cackle with laughter, but it’s cut off abruptly, turning into a cry of ecstasy as Patrick bites the tender juncture where thigh meets groin. “Ahh, fuuuck,” he curses under his breath.

Patrick knew this was going to be fun. He knew that despite his relative inexperience in this particular area that he’d still be able to taunt and tease David. And if the last few weeks were any indicator, David loved to be teased, but only by one person at a time. When Stevie or Alexis had ganged up with him it was too much and too far. But now it was just Patrick alone. And he was starting to learn more intimate buttons to push. More ways to needle David and break down his defenses. Drag out giving pleasure, all the while taking some for himself. Take David slowly apart with a flick of his tongue here, and twist of his fingers there. And when David eventually comes, Patrick’s a little more confident, a little more familiar with the sensation, and he’s able to hold on and swallow it all down.

It was still early - “ _Too fucking early_ ,” David would say - when Patrick wakes in the morning. His body rebels against sleeping in the strange surroundings of Stevie’s apartment. David was sprawled next to him on his back, arms stretched over his head holding a pillow to his eyes. Patrick could tell he was still asleep by his rhythmic breathing, so, not for the first time, he let himself just take it all in for a moment. He was overwhelmed by how much his life had changed basically overnight. He had had… _sex_ …sort of…with _David_.

Having grown much bolder in the last few hours, Patrick reaches over to pet David’s warm chest gently. David’s breath catches and his body shifts, as he returns to consciousness. Shifting closer, Patrick positions himself to kiss David’s neck and then trail lazily down his chest, and stomach, and hip. He pushes the sheet further down, exposing David’s quickly hardening cock to the dawn and he presses feather-soft kisses to David’s thighs.

“This is so incorrect,” David’s gravelly morning voice was soft, and Patrick can feel it reverberate in his groin.

“Does that mean stop?” he replies, not removing his mouth from the ab muscle right above David’s dick.

The gentle huff of laughter he gets in reply lets Patrick know that it did not, in fact, mean stop. So, Patrick settles in and wakes David up nice and slowly with only the third blow job he has ever performed in his life. He drags it out as much as he can, licking from root to tip, tasting every drop of precum, every inch of David’s hard length. David rakes his fingers through Patrick’s hair as he comes, holding him close but not too firmly, and Patrick’s sure he’ll think about the high, strangled sound he made all damn day.

“You’re getting so, so good at that,” David pants.

“Your positive feedback is very important to me,” Patrick teases as he leaves the bed to start getting ready for the day.

“Wait,” David struggles to prop himself up on his elbows, still weak from sleep and sex. “What are you doing?”

“Getting dressed?” Patrick has half a leg in his jeans.

“Yes, but why though?”

“Because we’ll need to head out soon so I can open the store? And I can’t sleep.” He realizes his t-shirt is covered in dried come so he tosses it in his bag and dons the spare one he brought.

“Okay, but what about that?” David, doing his side smile, nods his head indicating Patrick’s semi.

Patrick can’t help the blush that springs to his cheeks. He looks back at David from under his lashes and lowers his voice, “Well, you can just owe me one.”

The noise David makes is going to replay in Patrick’s head all week.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Patrick knew he was going to propose the night of Asbestos Fest. Well, not right then, he knew it was way too flipping soon, but that was just sort of how he rolled with relationships.
> 
> Covers S4E3 through S4E9.

On August 2nd, Patrick worked the morning at Ray’s before heading to Rose Apothecary for David’s lunch coverage and afternoon shift. He hadn’t planned on bringing David a giant bouquet of flowers shaped like a peacock, but Ray was apparently exploring floral arrangement as yet another one of his business offerings.

The kitchen was littered with discarded stems and leaves, and Ray had insisted Patrick take one before he left, “to give the store a pop of color!” When Patrick carried it into the store a short while later, the look on David’s face was a priceless mixture of alarm and flattery.

“Um, I,” David’s voice faltered as his eyes took it all in. “I didn’t get you anything for our one-month anniversary,” he finally managed, grimacing apologetically.

Patrick almost choked. He had actually forgotten that would be today. He had only agreed to bring the flower arrangement because they were _hilarious,_ and he wanted to laugh at it together with David. “Oh!” he tried to act casual, the gears turning. “That’s okay, David,” he grinned, a plan clicking into place, “you can buy us lunch.”

Later, when they're watching a movie on the couch at Ray's, Patrick gets such a _look_ when David sees the state of the kitchen and puts together where his flowers came from. 

On September 2nd, Patrick was prepared. He got to the store early and decorated the backroom with heart shaped balloons and streamers. David’s scream was so priceless Patrick was nearly crying with laughter by the time David walked carefully back out to confront him.

“Why?” David said patiently, grimacing and holding the string of a balloon like it was a dirty nappy. Patrick could only shrug as he continued giggling. “Okay, well. I’m glad this is so fun for you.”

On October 2nd David had spent the night at Patrick’s so it was easy to jump out of bed before David woke up and make them a nice breakfast. He brought the breakfast tray to the room and woke David up by holding a pancake under his nose.

“Usually food in bed is incorrect, but this is possibly the most romantic thing anyone has ever done for me,” David said a few minutes later, double fisting eggs and OJ.

“Happy three months,” Patrick replied, saluting David with his mug of tea.

The night of the Open Mic, David pulled Patrick into the backroom after everyone was gone and went down on him amongst the back stock and folios of paperwork. Their one rule of “over-the-clothes only at work” had apparently flown out the window and they were both obviously okay with that just this once. Patrick cradled David’s head gently as he bobbed eagerly on his cock. David seemed to be pouring all sorts of affectionate and appreciative feelings into servicing Patrick.

He licked the come off his lips after Patrick spilled himself into David’s mouth and bounded back onto his feet. “Thank you for my song,” he whispered, and kissed Patrick so hard it took his breath away. All Patrick could do was hold him close, digging his fingers into David’s skin.

“So Open Mic will be an every week thing, right?” Patrick gasped for air as they finally broke apart.

“Well,” David’s high-pitched voice betrayed his reluctance immediately.

Patrick had to stop himself from cackling with laughter, “Any requests? Mariah? Celine? Cher? Dolly?”

David just pursed his lips together and hummed indignantly several times while walking away to finish cleaning up.

On their four-month anniversary, it all comes crashing down at the barbecue. Patrick nearly faints when Rachel approaches the table with Alexis. He feels his stomach plummet as he tries to explain, sitting then standing and talking more with his hands than he usually does.

“Over the past few months?!” David says tersely, “And you didn’t think to tell me about this?!

Patrick’s heart has stopped beating, he’s sure of it

“You stood in front of me and told me to trust people. When I was perfectly fine _not_ trusting people! But next thing I know, there's an oversized cookie on my doorstep, and you are telling me that I have ‘nothing to worry about?!’”

“I didn't want it to affect what we have. Okay? And I mean it when I tell you that you have nothing to worry about. Because no matter how hard I tried with her, it just never felt right. And up until recently, I didn't understand why.” He’s grasping at words to explain, always on the verge of screaming _I love you!_ and he’s sure he stopped breathing 10 minutes ago.

“David, I've spent most of my life not knowing what right was supposed to feel like, and then I met you. And everything changed. You make me feel right.” Patrick feels defensive and desperate and at any second, he might actually cry.

The pause before David speaks gives Patrick the slightest spark of hope. “That is quite possibly one of the most beautiful things I've ever heard anyone say. Um, outside of the Downton Christmas Special.”

“It's the truth.”

“I know, it's just that my truth is that I am damaged goods. And this has really messed things up for me. And I think I need some time with it.”

“Alright.” The earth feels like it’s spinning too fast and he can’t fill his lungs to breathe.

In a fog, he returns to the barbecue and picks up David’s plate, laden with various foods. Stevie, like a knight in shining armor, is suddenly at his side with a gentle hand on his arm. “I’ll take it,” she says softly. Patrick just lets her step into his task before rounding on Rachel.

“Which room are you in?” he asks firmly. He doesn’t wait for her answer before taking her by the elbow and directing her away from the stunned remaining Roses.

The conversation that follows doesn’t take long. He doesn’t actually have a lot to say to her anymore.

“It’s over.”

It’s final. He’s sorry for ghosting but it’s really and truly over. She starts to tear up, and he feels bad for being cold, but he really doesn’t owe her any explanations.

They have the entire short conversation on the threshold of her room, and when Patrick sees Stevie leave room seven his throat goes dry. He catches her eye and she just shakes her head once before walking back to the others.

The dread that’s come over him intensifies like he’s never experienced before. He manages to keep it together long enough to get in his car and pull away.

“ _Fuck, fuck, fuck,_ ” becomes like a mantra and he just continues driving instead of heading home. Lost, consumed with anxiety and regret, he makes it to the familiar hiking trail. His fingers are sore from gripping the steering wheel, and he’s soaked with sweat. He steps out of the car and yells “FUCK!” into the air, startling a pair of squirrels up a tree. He stays at the top of the hill so long it’s dark as he descends, and he has to use the flashlight on his phone to avoid tripping over roots. When he finally makes it home, he sits in his car for another hour before going straight to his room.

“I’m sorry,” he texts to David.

“I know,” comes the reply 30 minutes later.

“I can run the store tomorrow, you don’t have to come in,” he replies immediately. He watches the three dots blink and disappear for what feels like an eternity.

“K.” David finally responds, and Patrick almost throws his phone across the room, a fresh wave of agony overtaking him.

He tries to convince himself that a shower will help wash away some of the crippling dread he’s feeling, but he knows it won’t - and it doesn’t. He stays awake almost all night, planning his apology and ordering gifts. The chocolates should arrive at the motel by noon tomorrow, so that’s something.

“We sold one of the cat hair scarves,” Patrick texts David at noon the next day on the dot. The Chocolate Lady’s delivery confirmation email had just pinged his phone mere seconds earlier.

“Mickey will be happy to hear that,” David texts back nearly 20 minutes later.

Patrick can’t think of anything else to say, but he desperately wants to keep David talking. “Yeah,” is all he manages after 5 minutes of agonizing. Thankfully, the store stays busy enough to keep his body occupied, though his mind races a mile a minute. The usually semi-genuine smile he wears for customers is a total mask all day.

Just before closing Stevie shows up at the door. She looks at him sympathetically and says, “David’s not well enough to come in tomorrow either.”

“Oh. …Okay.” Patrick fidgets and can’t look at her. “That’s okay. I’ll just…I can, um, take all the shifts until…” he has to clear his throat to budge the lump that has formed there. “Until he’s feeling better.”

Stevie leans forward to maybe squeeze his arm, he thinks, but she moves away instead and leaves.

Patrick immediately opens his phone and orders a floral arrangement (not from Ray) for tomorrow, and a gift for the next day as well. Just in case. _Fuck_. The answer to “In case of what?” he doesn’t really want to think about.

It’s early (for David) on the third day when he receives an unprompted text from him.

**David: Stevie is taking me to the Castle Elms spa.**

**Patrick: Oh, that’s great! That sounds relaxing**

Patrick is nearly jumping out of his skin with hope and trying desperately to contain himself. David had texted him first. It was actually conversational. Progress! His heart is in his throat watching the little dots blink.

**David: We’ll be gone overnight so I won’t be able to come into the store today or tomorrow.**

Patrick pauses, holding his breath because his brain can’t focus on that task right now.

**Patrick: Don’t worry about it, take all the time you need.**

He’s already looking up the spa, a plot hatching to send something special there to them when David replies.

**David: Thank you.**

There it was, the hope returning. _Anything for you_ – he desperately wants to reply.

David, however, has another excuse for day five, delivered via Alexis. She comes into the store with a portfolio and questions about officially starting her consulting business. But she opens with a rambling story about David “inventorying his knits” and a years-long battle with a particular moth.

Patrick is pretty sure moths common to North America don’t live for more than a year, but he doesn’t say so. He sees her off with another gift for David in the form of a silver bracelet that he knew matched David’s favorite chain.

Day six is their usual day to be closed. Patrick and David would usually spend at least part of it together – either doing something that needed to be done at the store, or around town. Even just lunch or a walk. So not hearing from him at all feels lonely and a little scary. Being really alone, with no customers or tasks to distract him (even Ray is gone to his sister’s for the week) gives him too much time to think, and he starts to feel like he’s been a burden to David. He was so inexperienced in a same-sex relationship, maybe David was tired of that and had been looking for an ‘out’ this whole time. He escapes to his favorite hike and is thankful that the cell coverage is spotty, so he’s not tempted to call or send a million texts.

There still haven’t been any texts or emails of excuse from David by open the next morning. So when Patrick spots him through the window five minutes later, he’s shocked and almost vomits all over the bath salts he’s stocking.

“Hi,” David says calmly, breezing in the door like he isn’t about to break Patrick’s heart in two.

“Hi,” he replies, gearing up for the speech he’s been practicing for hours.

“So, after some time alone, I just wanted to come here, and tell you, that I-”

“David, I need to apologize to you,” the words leave his mouth in a rush to soften the blow of what David’s going to say. “I was going to sleep last night, and I realized I have not been respectful of your space. All of the texts, and the gifts. Uh, I was upset, and it was reactionary, and I thought I was doing the right thing, but really all I was doing was smothering you, when you had asked for space, and that's not right.”

“Okay, well smothering's a bit intense.”

Patrick barely hears him and barrels on. “It was self-serving, and it was desperate, and, and I'm- I'm embarrassed.”

“Okay, there's no need to feel embarrassed.”

He’s not sure he can take this. Having him here was almost worse. “Well, I am. I've just been trying to deal with everything here at the store, and I think you're right. It's probably better if we just focus on the business, and, and not try to push anything.”

“I'm not sure I said that.”

“You didn't have to. In fact, by saying nothing at all, you spoke volumes.” He’s definitely going to be sick any moment.

“Okay, so…you would like to focus on the store, then?”

He swallows the bile climbing his throat. “I think that's probably a good idea. But hey, it's good to have you back,” he lies. The lump in his throat is threatening to close off all air to his lungs now and he doesn’t even register David’s little noises. This is going to be agony. To torture himself further he leans in for a hug and suddenly they’re patting each other softly like they’ll get a shock if they actually touched.

It's an unusually quiet morning so Patrick continues to set out the back stock that needs to be refilled and tries with all his might to never look at David directly. It mostly works but he still feels awkward, and raw, and heartbroken. David hovering around him…and _touching_ him doesn’t help and he finally snaps.

“You know what, I’m probably good to finish this up, if you want to go for lunch,” he desperately needs David to leave so he can wallow in peace, but he just stands there looking confused. “What?”

“I don’t know, you tell me,” David snaps back.

Patrick takes a breath, still failing to calm the storm inside his gut, “I’m happy to finish doing the creams, I don’t think it’s a two-person job.”

“Okay…so you’re just going to stay here and not have lunch then? Or are we going in shifts?” David thinking only of his stomach is very typical.

“I don’t know, David! I’m just trying to be professional here, okay?” He feels his face flushing red hot and he wants to throw the stupid hand creams across the room, but he doesn’t. “I think this is going to take a minute to get used to,” he says more calmly than he feels.

“I don’t want to get used to this!” David nearly shrieks. “I don’t want to pretend like we’re coworkers.”

“We _are_ coworkers,” he feels suddenly dumb, like he's missing something.

“Okay,” David says more calmly, “I just liked it better when we were more than that.”

What? Why is he saying this? To rub it in? “David, I’m just trying to go off of what you wanted.”

“You wouldn’t let me finish telling you what I wanted!” David is definitely shrieking now and flailing his arms. “I was ready to get back together days ago!”

 _What?!_ “What?!” Patrick can feel his face making some unknown expression that he hopes makes sense.

“Yes…” David says softly, smiling his flirtatious smile that makes Patrick’s knees weak…and it actually kind of pisses him off.

When David explains how appreciative he was of the gifts, and how it was such new territory for him, Patrick’s heart melts a bit. But he keeps his composure enough to tease and needle him.

“You know what? I feel like maybe _I_ deserve an olive branch, or two,” he suggests helpfully. And since he’s been working all by himself for days, he stalks off to lunch and lets David ‘think about what he’s done.’

That night, the night of David’s “Olive Branch,” ends up being another instance where their rules for at-work behavior nearly go ignored.

“Oh baby! DON’T LET GOOOO!” Tina Turner belts over the stores speakers as Patrick’s heart soars. He pumps his fists in the air, David gyrating and kneeling on the floor in front of him. David definitely had some interesting moves. He did _not_ expect this day to end this way, but damn, he really couldn’t ask for a better outcome.

The music continues as Patrick leans forward and grasps David firmly by the sides of his face to finally, _finally_ kiss him for the first time in a week. He tries to pour all his appreciation into it, all the unsaid affection he’s had to bottle up, repeat all the apologies again and again. He wants to fill in the still healing rift between them and promise to make everything better than before.

They break apart to breathe and Patrick takes the opportunity to brush his tongue along David’s bottom lip, getting the exact reaction he was hoping for. David is kissing him, licking him _back_ , it feels just as desperate, a soft grunt leaving his throat as he shifts. He grips Patrick’s thighs, trying to level himself with Patrick’s face. So, Patrick slides off the wooden chair and drops to his knees too, slotting one leg between David’s, his pelvis seeking the friction he has missed for a full week. They’re both all arms and hands, lips and teeth, frantic to get their fill.

David is his, and his alone. …And they are alone in their store…and the door is locked…and Patrick is kneading David’s ass in a way to let him know that he’s forgiven. David’s hands are gripping at the back of Patrick’s neck, his fingernails raking firmly through the short hairs there.

“David,” Patrick whispers into his mouth, pressing further into him, guiding them both to the floor. He braces for David to object, but surprisingly David doesn’t. David is actually pulling him in, keeping him from moving his mouth too far away.

Settling himself with a leg between David’s thighs, Patrick fumbles with his leather sweater to get his hands underneath it. They both inhale sharply as Patrick finally touches David’s skin. And David’s hips jolt off the floor seeking satisfaction in Patrick’s hip that he’s purposefully pressing _just so_. At some point Patrick is pretty sure that the music has switched to a different song, but he barely registers what it is. God, he missed this. Missed David, missed his body, missed his voice, his smell, his hands…his cock.

“Argh,” David grunts softly as Patrick shifts his focus away from David’s mouth and instead lavishes attention on his throat. He bites gently first, then licks a stripe down to his collar bone as best he can until he reaches the collar of David’s sweater.

“You’re wearing too many clothes,” Patrick grumbles against his skin. David’s soft chuckle makes Patrick smile and bite gently again. “No, seriously,” he says softly, “you should be more naked _right now_.” And to accentuate his point, Patrick drops his hands to the waistband of David’s pant/skirt combo and pulls down as much as the tight fabric will allow – which isn’t much.

“Umpf,” David’s breath is shallow and his hands grip at Patrick’s biceps. “But we’re… _Patrick_ ,” his voice has a note of caution as he rolls his hips up again when Patrick palms David’s cock through the layers of his clothes. “Everyone can see us,” he whispers.

“Mmmm...” that does make Patrick think for a second, but that doesn’t stop him from stroking his hand just ever so slightly over David’s growing erection.

“Paaaatriiiick,” David’s voice is part whine part warning.

“I’m thinking, I’m thinking,” he stills, waiting for his heart to calm down enough to pump blood back to his brain instead of his cock. “Umm,” he swallows thickly. He really didn’t want to stop, he wanted to take David right there on the floor even with the risk of some townie peeping through the windows. David hitches his leg over Patrick’s calf, reminding him of their predicament (like he could forget), but also pulling him closer (like it was possible.)

“It’s okay, baby,” he says softly, apologetically.

“No!” Patrick doesn’t mean to sound so shocked or hurt. “No, David I need you. …I need to be with you tonight.”

“I know, baby, I know. Maybe I can convince Alexis to have a movie night at Twyla’s, or Stevie could…”

“Wait!” with more blood flowing to his head, Patrick’s able to put several thoughts together in a line that aren’t just ‘ _get David naked.’_ “Ray’s gone.”

“What?”

“For the week, I think? Or at least a few more days.” He gazes into David’s confused eyes, hoping to show how eager and delighted he is in this moment.

“Are you being serious right now?” David deadpans. Patrick just nods in answer. “Then why aren’t we there?!” he practically screeches. “Why aren’t we there fucking _right now_?!”

“That’s honestly a very good question,” Patrick concedes. They are both off the floor in a flash, turning off lights and grabbing phones and bags. “I would use this moment to remind you that you are the reason we haven’t…touched each other in a week, but…”

“Okay, yes, thank you,” David waves him toward the door. “Do you want to fuck your boyfriend tonight or not?”

That lights a fire under Patrick. While he locks the door from the outside, David grabs him by the waist, pressing his length against him from behind. It makes Patrick fumble and nearly drop the keys entirely.

In the car, he just gets his seatbelt buckled when David reaches over and grabs his face for another searing kiss before beginning to drive. David behaves himself while Patrick drives, so Patrick decides he can be a little naughty. When David opens the mirror in the sun visor, Patrick reaches under David’s skirt and cups his still halfcocked erection. It has the pleasant effect of tearing an obscene noise from David, and also giving Patrick a better idea of how the pant/skirt combo worked.

“I’m going to get you for this,” David breathes through his nose, clutching the car interior.

“I’m really hoping that you do,” Patrick only removes his hand so he can properly maneuver the car into Ray’s driveway. Getting into the house takes a few tries because David is just _on him_ , and Patrick just _lets him_. And suddenly Ray’s quiet little house echoes the indecent noises coming from them, uninhibited by the threat of being overheard.

Patrick drops his bag to the floor whirls around to face David and grabs two handfuls of his ass as he presses into him. His mouth is on David’s throat again, claiming him, marking him.

“Upstairs,” David pants, “upstairs, upstairs.” When Patrick grabs his hand and is halfway up the stairs in less than a second, he jabs, “How am I the levelheaded one here?”

It is honestly, another good question. Patrick feels out of control, high, and frantic. His brain is telling him to keep holding on to David lest he disappear again, and his cock is telling him to _get David naked_ again. Truly both of those scenarios are an excellent option in his mind.

The second David is through the bedroom door, Patrick slams it behind him, rattling the little figures on the bureau. Still out of breath from the kissing and the rushing, he presses David against the door and drops to his knees. It just feels right, it just feels like exactly where he needs to be. He fumbles a bit with the fasteners on the complicated pant/skirt combination, but he gets a quick assist from David and all at once his cock is free, practically springing and bobbing in front of Patrick’s eager mouth.

Taking a deep breath to try to center himself, Patrick licks David from balls to tip, circling around the head and tasting the bitter tang of precum threatening to leak out. The little breathy noises David makes above him are like a symphony. God, he loved this, loved him. Every single bit of him.

They had not had enough privacy to be able to do more than just this – quick blowjobs, often pressed against the door they wouldn’t want to have open suddenly, or silently under the covers at 3am. But on nights that David spent over in Patrick’s room, they would talk, and touch, and get _very close_ to something more.

It wasn’t like Patrick was a total virgin…in _that_ area…it just wasn’t something Rachel had wanted to do for a second time. And that one time they had tried…it… _anal_ \- _just fucking say it_...they were in college, so that was a decade ago! She just wasn’t that into it, and it hadn’t mattered to him in the end. Patrick had been trying to chase the memory of that one time, but it was fuzzy and tinged with the general lack of enthusiasm he had about their relationship.

So, as he kneels with David’s cock in his mouth, getting his fill of all the familiar sensations of having him back in this position again, Patrick gears himself up for finally, _finally_ fucking his boyfriend’s ass. There wouldn’t be that strange question of “Have they really had sex?” for him anymore. It would be definitive. It would be the last matter settled…unless…well, they could also switch roles? That was also an option. Definitely something to think about later when he didn’t have a massive erection threatening to burst the seams of his jeans, and a mouthful of David’s balls.

“Uuuuuh, Patrick!” David’s cry shakes the cobwebs loose and he realizes David has been trying to get his attention for several seconds.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry,” he hops back up, knees complaining a little at the speed. “I have just really missed your cock.”

David giggles low, “Mmm I can tell. But did you…” Patrick interrupts him with a deep kiss. “Did you have um, something else in mind too?”

“Mmhmm,” Patrick hums affirmatively against David’s lips.

“Is it what I think it is?”

Patrick wants to kiss that coy sideways smile right off his face, but instead he just nods and drops to his knees again, this time helping David all the way out of his pant/skirt and shoes. Not one to miss an opportunity, he licks his way back up David’s thigh as he stands and continues to trail his tongue up David’s stomach as he lifts his leather sweater up and off. Normally, he would make a smart aleck remark about the leather sweater, but he also doesn’t want to press his luck.

Comparatively, Patrick is wearing fewer and less complicated clothes, so he’s able shuck them off with relative ease. And quickly they’re both naked, and their skin feels white hot where they touch, and _oooh, God_ it feels good. Feels so, so good to have David right here. Patrick is consumed with the intoxicating everything that is David Rose. He feels more than a little desperate to touch all of him at once. He spreads his fingers as wide as they will go and kneads the warm, flushed skin stretched across David’s back and shoulders. Patrick walks them backward closer and closer to the bed until his calves bump the mattress and he slowly, cautiously, for some reason afraid he’ll spook David…or maybe himself? pulls him forward.

They maneuver carefully, still practically inseparable, to lay softly back, David on top, partially covering Patrick with his strong, solid form and their rock-hard dicks trapped between them. _Heaven_. This was heaven. Every intimate moment they had spent together was heaven. It was such a revelation for Patrick, and he had a sneaking suspicion that David wasn’t lying when he said it was mutual.

“I’ve missed you,” David whispers into the crook of Patrick’s jaw where he’s starting to lick, and suck, and bite just a little. It’s a confession and an apology, and it sends a bolt of desire straight to Patrick’s cock.

He rolls his hips, grinding, seeking his pleasure openly. He grips David at the join where thigh becomes ass and drags his nails through the skin there, urging, asking, promising.

“I missed you, too,” he sighs, massaging, gripping, wanting, needing. Without really looking, Patrick opens the drawer in his night side table and pulls out the little bottle of lube and pack of condoms there. He shoves them under his pillow for safe keeping while they continue to slowly, sensually explore each other’s mouths and bodies, taking what they need and giving just as well.

Patrick rolls David onto his back, nudging his legs further apart, pressing their cocks tantalizingly closer, changing the friction and pressure just a bit. As slowly as he can allow himself, Patrick shifts, kissing a trail down David’s chest and torso. He hits the slightly thicker patch of hair around David’s navel that trails further, further.

David makes fun of Patrick for being buttoned-up normally, but it strikes him that it’s so rare that Patrick gets to see much of David between neck and knees. There are plenty of tight jeans and tops that hug and accentuate, of course. But it’s such a novelty to have David totally bare, vulnerable and wanting, mewling softly in Patrick’s bed with every suckle and scrape of teeth.

He finally settles himself between David’s legs, nuzzling at the hard plane of muscle just next to where his cock is straining into the open air. It would be so easy to just suck him off right now, rip a cry from David as he climaxes…but he doesn’t. He doesn’t have a plan, but he has something like one. Just an idea. A hope.

“I’m going to fuck you,” he says softly, propping himself on his elbows to give David the filthiest look he can muster.

“Mmm!” David moans nodding vigorously, squeezing his eyes shut, “Yup. Yes. Mmhmm. Yes.”

It’s sweet and encouraging and Patrick feels in control. Feels like he has the upper hand for once. He directs David to open his legs just a little wider and plant his feet just so. So, Patrick has… _access_ …and an absolutely sinful view.

His mouth waters looking at David spread and eager. It’s not something he has a lot of practice in specifically, but his female partners had always been more than satisfied with the dexterity of his tongue. He starts slow, kissing David’s tender flesh at the very top of his thigh, biting firmly then licking a long, gentle stripe to sooth the ache. Patrick can see David’s toes curling next to him and feels the bedding shift above him as he must be clutching fistfuls of the sheets. Satisfied with himself, Patrick goes for it, licks David from hole to perineum and back again. 

“Uuuuugh! Fuck!” David groans and his legs shake.

Patrick circles his tongue around and around the pink puckered skin, lubricating him, tantalizing him.

“Please…Patrick” David’s fully begging, which drives Patrick to distraction.

He draws it out as much as he can, but Patrick can’t wait long before he’s fucking his tongue into David. Over and over, as far as he can reach it. His face is covered in saliva, pressed firmly into David’s groin. He grabs for the lube and slicks up his fingers in preparation… _for_ preparation. Patrick had done some research into this way back when with Rachel, and he and David had discussed it…and experimented a little one night. So he takes his time teasing with his index finger circling, pressing…entering.

“Yessss,” David hisses and shifts into it, encouraging Patrick to the next knuckle and the next.

Patrick does his best to stretch him, stroke him, open him up slowly. He quickly adds a second finger when David begs for it, twists his slick digits and curls them ever so slightly to pull a moan from David’s throat again.

“More, more, more,” David pants, breathless.

Quick as he can, Patrick adds a little more lube, just to be thorough, and adds a third finger, stretching, stretching, fucking David with his fingers. He could live here. Set up between David’s legs and just worship him day and night if he could.

“Now, please!” David begs, clutching at Patrick.

“You sure?” he had really hoped to get to do this a little while longer, draw it out.

“I _need_ you!...need you!”

The desperation in David’s voice goes straight to Patrick’s heart and he’s on his knees in a second, crawling up David’s body, cradling his face, kissing him soundly. He finds the condom and pulls back only to slip it on and spread more lube for good measure. The touch to his own cock is… _whew_ …almost too much, but he keeps it together and lines himself up at David’s entrance. Gently, tenderly he presses, _presses_ until his cock enters him. Slowly, so slowly he sinks, further burying himself in David’s heat. The feel is… _aaarggh_ …the feel of David’s tight, hot… _fuck_.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans under his breath, fully seated inside him to the hilt.

“Yessss, baby,” David’s head is thrown back, and he hooks his legs around Patrick’s waist to guide him, keep him. “Please,” he begs again.

Patrick has to take a deep breath before he’s steady enough to move. To finally, finally move inside him, pulling slowly, achingly out almost all the way and then back in just as lazily. He doesn’t need to rush, doesn’t want this to be hurried and over too soon. He wants to make David see what he does to him, how hot it makes him, how much he wants him, needs him, can’t live without him.

“I need you,” he sighs. It’s not what he wants to say, not what he means to say. But it’s what he can say right now.

“You have me, you have me,” David murmurs, clutching at him, holding him.

They pant in unison, finding a rhythm and pace that they can maintain, that feels good… _soooo good_. So good Patrick wants to sob from it. The anxiety and tension from the past week ebbs and flows, and soon washes away in a sea of being buried in David. It’s fucking, no doubt about it. They are fucking, but it’s _so much more_ than just that.

“Daaaviiid, David, _David-davidavidavid_ …” he doesn’t even realize he’s chanting under his breath.

“I’m here. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here,” David cradles his head while they shift, and grind, and pant, and pour everything out.

It’s enough and it’s so much, and it’s exactly what Patrick needs. He quickens the pace, chasing the precipice, finding the edge. David reaches between them toward his cock, red and leaking.

“Wait, don’t!” Patrick pleads, still fucking at an increasingly frantic pace. “I want…I want you to come in my mouth…after…after I…”

“Yes!” David gasps, “Yes, baby, yes!”

And just like the night after they met, David’s voice is enough to bring Patrick to completion. He feels the tingle up his spine, the tightening in his balls and he breaks and shatters and spills. And before he even returns fully to Earth, his mouth is on David’s cock, working him, stroking him, pulling him over the edge along with him. David comes hot and hard down his throat, groaning out his release and jerking his hips up to empty fully. It’s hot…it’s sooo… _hot_.

Only after they fully catch their breath and grow sweaty holding each other do they move to clean up. They don’t say anything, just exchange bashful smiles and light touches until they settle down under the covers and turn out the lights. They cuddle, facing each other in the moonlight through the window, not willing to let the other one go into their own space just yet.

“No more secrets, I promise,” Patrick brings David’s hand to his lips and kisses each knuckle, his body starting to feel lazy and heavy.

“Hmmm,” David hums good naturedly, “maybe, just a few secrets? Like, you don’t ever need to know what I look like when I’m vomiting polar bear shots and crying in a tiny and disgusting bar bathroom at 1am.”

“Ha!” Patrick supposes that’s true. “Polar bears shots, hm? That’s what you order on a night out?”

“Mmhm, usually. It’s a nice little cool/burn situation in the throat.”

“Interesting,” Patrick nods, his eyes blinking slowly and slower…and slower. And, not for the first time, the last thought he has before passing out from the exhaustion of the past week is, _‘I love him. I’m in love with him.’_ and he's not entirely sure if he's said it out loud.


End file.
